I Just Want You To Know
by funeral flowers
Summary: Do you think I’d tell you and leave it at that? Just let you know, as a by the way, or a for your information? I wouldn’t be able to." PG-13 for implied incest, and suicide. WARNING: Character Death.


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Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters mentioned in Harry Potter. They are under the ownership of Lord God Rowling. I only own the plot. But there is no plot. So I own nothing. This is just a bunch of dark fluff bunnies. It's the end of the world! I OWN NOTHING! A- and… I don't own 'Iris' by the Goo Goo Dolls either… ugh! I'm JUST A LITTLE FIC WRITER! -cue 'Paperback Writer' by the Beatles- I don't even own the Goo Goo Dolls cd…

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Author's Note: This is a suicide fic (amazingly) and it actually doesn't involve being soaked in blood and then laughing. (Like many of my previous stories…) It does not involve guns or poison or car accidents, or water (well, barely) and it is a songfic (no way!) So… enjoy, I guess. (PS. One of my many one-shots, by the way.)

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I Just Want You To Know

By: Endless Rain

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All around me is air. It is all I see and all I feel beside the rain pounding on me. It is only a light drizzle, but I am so frail and thin it could be hail. As I am standing here, grieving the loss of my elder brother in the war, I feel so small, as everything around me is so big. If I told you how I felt, I think you would be disgusted. Everyone would. So I keep it to myself, brother. I tell no one. But this emotion grew large and threatened to strangle me everytime I saw you. They'd never understand. They wouldn't try to. Just give me weird looks. They'd disown me, and so would you, and that's the last thing I want, because I want you.

Do you think I'd tell you and leave it at that? Just let you know, as a by the way, or a for your information? I wouldn't be able to. Your eyes would no longer turn on me in a brotherly affection, and when you turn away, I could no longer look at you with hunger and not think you don't know. Do you know how much this hurts? It's been this feeling pulsating around in me, since as long as I can remember. All I feel around me is the wind, blowing in my ears and burning my eyes. When I close them, nothing gets better. My old black coat doesn't make me warm anymore, as this coldness became too much. It got to the point where I could no longer sit at the table during meals any longer. I needed you.

I needed you to know, which is why I wrote that letter I didn't give you. It's in my pocket now, but I burned it, so all I can feel are the ashes. I can remember ripping it up last night and dropping every last piece into the fire. I can remember that warmth. I need that warmth, as the coldness I feel goes beyond skin now. It settles within my very body. As I look down the side of this building, I know I am doing the right thing. You must never know the lust I feel for you, the need I feel for you. Had you known, you would be cursed forever with me. So I leave you, dear brother, as I wait for death to come.

I would often pray to God to take me quickly in my sleep, but as he did not do this, I decide to leave myself. I see this as walking out through a door. I am walking out the door of my life, and I am soon to die. As I am taking my life, I know I will not end up with God. I shall burn eternally in Hell. But that seems quite nice compared to the frostbite on my fingers. I think that no matter what heathen I face, it is better than you suffering, big brother. You do not need to have tears fall down your beautiful face, but the scars will heal easier, compared to the wounds I would inflict upon you if you were to find out my feelings. So as I stand here now, ready to die, the cold penetrating my very being on this earthly plain, this three-dimensional world, I am ready to become spirit. To roast on the Devil's spit above the very pit of hell with all the other ones who took their life for another to be happy.

It seems an unjust ruling to those who want another to be happy, but I am ridding many souls of a friend, an unwilling lover, a sister, a daughter… maybe I do deserve Hell. I am ready now, to say goodbye, to be rid of the world around me. But I must do this gradually. I pull out a rosary, well worn, and pray on each bead. Each prayer is for you, brother, not me. I deserve none of these loving words.

And I'd give up forever to touch you   
'Cause I know that you feel me somehow   
You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be   
And I don't want to go home right now

Deep within me I feel the need to scream, but the cold has overtaken my very throat, and the words would come out as ice if I were to speak them. I have finished my praying, and hold the rosary tight. I slip of my jacket to quicken the freezing process: I need to feel nothing as I fall to my death. That is how I dreamt of it in the classes that I was failing. I didn't do work, I simply planned. Planned my death and received countless zeros on my exams. But I didn't care, as I'd be gone when the results came back. As our family looks at the words as they grieve me. But the scars will soon fade. That time next year, I will be long forgotten.

I let out my breath, and everything is slow. The cars moving below, my fingers moving across the beads for the second time in prayer for everyone I am leaving behind. I am ready to go, but still have much more thinking to do, to finish everything so nothing is left behind on earth for me to dwell on. I feel my brain is frozen over, and my teeth are chattering, lips are blue. I feel my skin is so very pale and red that I would look like a corpse if I were to lie down. There is frozen ice in my hair. As the wind picks up the rain becomes harder, and from as high up as I am, much colder. I'm sure our family is looking for me. I told them yesterday that I'd be back in a few minutes. But that was when I decided to take action. I decided to put my plan into operation.

Now I am standing here on this building, brother, and I am wondering where you are. Do you love me? Are you looking for me? Have you noticed I am gone? God, I love you. I feel the need to hold you now, kiss you; kiss you in a way you've never been kissed, with anything but innocence. I close my eyes now and imagine you and me in the many days we've spent together, my whole life. If you knew I loved you in this way, would you still imagine them? Would you look upon me any differently? I suppose you would. My feelings are dirty and wrong. But they've always been there, big brother. Always. I suppose that, had I told you, you would avoid me. You always avoid your problems. That's what you do best. You don't fight. You never look them straight in the eye.

When I was nine and you were ten, you would look at me and I would melt. I think that is when the feelings began. I was so jealous of Hermione when she stole your heart, the heart I wanted so badly to have as mine. Well, I am eighteen now, and you are nineteen, and my feelings cease to change. I suppose this is real grieving. I remember feeling so down that I would bleed myself to see if I was still living. Sometimes in the bathtub, I would stain my water red, it would be so bad. The paramedics admitted me as a regular for blood loss. The first time it was two stabs to the neck. I was brought there naked. I said it was a vampire. But really it was a cut for each time I wanted to stab Hermione. But I felt sick after only two.

Real grievance is when you cannot have someone, and they are sitting right beside you. The thought have having to see them everyday, but knowing you can never claim them as yours, never have them. I die a virgin, as I was waiting for you. I didn't want to go that far with you, but I did not want to be labeled a slut. I had no desire for anything beyond kissing. Beyond that was only pain, desolation, and feeling empty and used. I had no need for those feelings, so I die never knowing the touch of man. Never knowing what it is like to be touched. Did you touch Hermione?

And all I can taste is this moment   
And all I can breathe is your life   
'Cause sooner or later it's over   
I just don't want to miss you tonight

I don't want to miss you. I don't want you to miss me. I begin to forget everything, and all I know is in this moment, in the present. All I know is you. This is all going to end soon. I am going to be gone. I don't know how long I have been standing here. It seems like hours, though with my body deteriorating with the cold, it could be minutes. I am standing now in my sweater with the G on it. It is the one I received only last week, at Christmas time. It is black, because Charlie died. I know that if I go too, I am only going to cause more pain, but I cannot live to see the look on your face when I finally break. When I finally give in and tell you I love you. Every other boy was just a distraction, so I wouldn't burst.

Everytime you asked me who I was going with, I thought you wanted me. It got down to that in these last few months, I could barely talk to you. I was going to give in. That was when I decided it better be soon, it better be now, older brother. When you graduated, there was no reason for me to stay at Hogwarts. I skipped most classes and the ones I went to were spent dreaming. I was finally committed to the hospital wing, they thought I was insane. Now, older brother, I don't want you thinking it was your fault for a being to lose their life. It wasn't your fault. It was me, falling in love where I should keep my balance. It is my entire fault. I'm crazy.

I tilt my head back and keep my eyes closed. I don't remember anything now. Everything is what is happening in that exact second and then I forget it. My legs are going to collapse beneath me, I am going to die now, it is so cold. I don't feel my fingers anymore. I am wearing only a skirt and these pantyhose. My shoes are black and my shirt is white beneath my black sweater. I peel that off and drop it to the ground. I put my head upright again and look out at the early morning city. It is gray as the sky and there are swirls of white clouds that grow darker and suddenly emit rain from their insides. Rain comes from my eyes. I am crying now. I am sobbing. Weeping for you, I look out across the entire city and I advance forward. Three more steps towards the edge where I end my life.

And I don't want the world to see me   
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand   
When everything's made to be broken   
I just want you to know who I am

Who, really, am I? I have no time or ability to remember now. All I remember is your face, which I am only vaguely sure is yours and my crying slows and is silent. I remember not your name, but your voice saying a name that must be mine. You've said it in annoyance, in blame, in anger, in laugher, and in love. But never the love I felt. Never the ferocious love I felt. I forever wanted you to know who I was. No one can see me at the top of this building, red hair flying in this frozen wind. I am surprised ice doesn't pelt my face. I have stopped crying, though lines of icy tears are trailing down my cheeks.

No one, including you, older brother, would understand the love that I feel. I was created to be killed. I want you to know that. You need to know this. You need to know who I am. The girl beneath the tresses of a brilliant shade of fire. Those many days you left me, the days you spent with Hermione and Harry, the days you went off to war. You finally married Hermione. I attended your wedding, big brother, but I cried not in happiness. Things are coming back to me, I remember, things are clearing. The wind is blowing my hair and numbing my face. I feel naught, yet know all. I suppose all wisdom comes in death, and as I am about to die, it comes to me.

I need you to know this love I have kept secret, yet I forbid myself to tell you. Everything is made to be broken, love. Hearts, promises, minds, trains of thoughts. I sigh and see the air turn white and then fade away. Is this what sadness is? When you cannot express the sorrow you are feeling? When you married Hermione, there was a sadness. But none like this. Not this "leaving sadness". You could have at least left me some assurance you'd love me. Hermione was my friend but grew to be someone I could not bear to speak to ever again.

And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming   
Or the moment of truth in your lies   
When everything feels like the movies   
Yeah you bleed just to know you're alive

There is nothing left for me now. Nothing left to remember. I take another step closer and there's only two more steps until I fall off the edge. I can feel myself trembling in the cold and nervousness. I am ready now, to die. I can feel my heart beating hard and fast, I swear, if I gave it the chance it would burst right out of my chest. I look back at the clothing I dropped, and look down to see the fingers I've lost feeling in, still gripping the rosary tight.

I am sobbing again, blinded by the tears and deafened by the sound of my own gasps for breath. If my face wasn't numb I might feel the tears, and as one fell over my lips I could taste the salt. I cried and cried and looked upon the city below. A taxi pulls up and a redhead boy and a brown haired girl get inside. I know who it is. This makes me want to scream, but I no longer have a voice. It was one of the first things to go.

I take a deep breath, and learn I am losing the ability to breathe. I realize now that there is no turning back and I stare straight ahead and take another step. There are no more tears. I am simply whimpering softly, but no tears can come out of my eyes any longer. I have wept myself dry. I am now on the edge, my clothing flapping in the wind. I feel the coldest and the weakest I have ever been in my life, including when Tom came out of the book and all my strength drained.

I am now officially living within the moment. I feel the wind everywhere and lift my arms. I close my eyes and keep my balance until I am completely ready to leave you, older brother. I lean forward slightly and begin to fall quickly. I let go of the rosary and it begins to fall down. We are each speeding down, people in the street see from below. Your taxi stops and you and your wife come out. You watch me fall. I don't think you know it's me.

And I don't want the world to see me   
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand   
When everything's made to be broken   
I just want you to know who I am

I am dying, losing all strength, and then I hit the ground. You and Hermione run over to me and you cry your tears over my dead face. My arms are spread out and my leg is bent into an unfathomable position. There is no miracle here, I am not going to wake up when you cry over me. No pheonix nor love can bring me back. I am absolutely gone.

The people gather around us three, you, me, and your wife, big brother. I have finally gotten what I wanted: your love. They say dead men tell no tales, and this tale is never going to be told ever again.

_I just want you to know who I am   
I just want you to know who I am   
I just want you to know who I am_

**[**Fin.**]**


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